


Hunter of Hounds

by Rininator



Category: Hellboy (Movies 2004-2008), Hellboy - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Guillermo del Toro's Hellboy is the best Hellboy, Hellboy/vampire, OC is a badass, Teammates to Lovers, Violence, if you don't like detailed graphic fighting scenes there will be warnings before hand, im in college so updates are gonna be hella slow, maybe some smut once plot arc 1 is over, no she does not sparkle, oc is old af, oc it tired of everyones shit, slowburn, vampires are just a bit sensitive to light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rininator/pseuds/Rininator
Summary: The Vatican is know for keeping secrets from the public, these tend to include supernatural creatures sealed away and mystical objects with power that cannot be explained by science. One of its oldest and best kept secret is an old treaty made before the Vatican was created. To stop Sammael, The hound of Resurrection, the Roman Catholic Church worked with Stella Dame, one of the oldest vampires left on earth. Together they sealed Sammael away and Stella was forced to sleep until she was needed again. When Grigori Rasputin released the hound, Stella is called into action. Working with the B.P.R.D. is Stella's only choice if she wishes to keep the apocalypse at bay.





	Hunter of Hounds

**Author's Note:**

> Look, this is my first fic since middle school. It is going to be shit until I figure out what I am doing. Please be patient with me and I do take constructive criticism. So if you find spelling/grammer errors let me know and I will fix them as soon as I can.

In the abyss of sleep, the mind occupies itself with dreams, usually they tend to be an incomprehensible blur of motions or faces. Places from our past or where we wish to be.  
I was standing before a mob of people, in a courtroom, on a pedestal. My wrists bound in handcuffs and my feet chained together. I couldn’t make out a single face, the crowd blended together but each shouted different profanities and insults.   
The mass of people were silenced by the Judge slamming his gravel down on the desk several times with a thwack resonating through the room.  
“Stella Dame, you are accused of practicing the Dark Arts and sacrificing animals in the name of the Devil, how do you plead?” The Judge exclaimed, having to increase his volume with each accusation due to the crowd becoming more excited. Today was going to end in bloodshed.  
Wither it was mine or the next woman who was being accused of being a witch  
“Not-Guilty” I stated.   
The crowd erupted in screams and yells of disgust.   
“She’s a Witch”  
“Burn her”   
“Devil’s whore”  
The Judge proceeded to repeditally slam the gravel down again. “Silence in the courtroom! Do you have any evidence to support your claims witch?”  
I let out a deep sigh, and looked upwards. All of this upheaval because I helped a small boy get over a fever.   
I turned my head to address the Judge while looking him dead in the eye, but once my eyes focus on his face I was frozen to the core. I stared at him mouth half open with my rebuttal. He was no longer human, what once was his nose now elongated out into a hairless snout. The Judge’s hair was gone and replaced with tentacles that fell down on his shoulders. Rather than just two eyes now the judge had four which bulged out the sides of his head.  
Sammael, the Hellhound. Why are you in my dreams?  
As I turned and looked over the crowd their blurred faces suddenly distorted and morphed into replicas of Sammael. In unison they raised their arms as if to praise the lord and spoke.   
“After being restrained for thousands of years, I have finally been released! It is time to begin the hunt again, but we will be ready for you, for every one of us that is killed, two will rise from our ashes.”  
When their speech ended, I looked down to see that I was no longer chained and standing on a pedestal in a courtroom but tied to a stake with a pile of wood at my feet. I watched as the wood erupted into flames and grew until the fire was licking at my feet.   
“Stella, Sucker of souls, Hunter of hounds, Let our never ending game of cat and mouse begin again.”Their voices rose with the flames and my screams of pain. The heat enveloped my body burning every part it touched. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed as the pain became overwhelming.   
The burning sensation left my limbs and settled itself in the back of my throat. I drew in a deep breath to try and relieve the pain, but the air only made the fire flare up. I slowly opened my eyes. They felt as if someone had attached lead weights to my eyelids in attempt to keep them closed.  
Once fully opened I surveyed my surrounds, wondering what new dreamscape I had entered. I was in a tomb, my tomb. This was the tomb that the Church had placed me in, after we had successfully restrained Sammael and he was no longer a threat.  
Why was I here?   
They had moved on to the next danger that threatened their existence, me. They gave me two choices, be hunted down by the holy order for all of eternity or sleep until the next apocalyptic disaster emerged.   
Every detail of the room was crystal clear, unlike most dreamscapes where everything was blurry and indistinguishable. Each dust particle, crack in the ceiling, and the dank air that filled the tomb was very detailed.  
I was not dreaming anymore, was I?  
With much effort I drew myself up into a sitting position. Every joint and bone in my body cracked and popped. My skin had seemed to have withered down to the bone and looked like leather. It was tight and felt if I moved the wrong way it would rip. What would happen if I straightened my arm out? Would my skin crack and flake off like an old leather boot or would it rip where the skin at my elbow has been folded during my sleep. Would my body try to heal itself or has my blood turned to dust? My blood, would it flow out of my arm or...Blood?   
With each though the wildfire in the back of my throat burn hotter. Dear god, how long has it been? I have slept for long periods of time before, decades even; but each time I woke up the thirst had never been the horrible.  
I screwed my eyes shut as the urge to hunt and feed became almost overwhelming. I feral snarl erupted out of my throat when my morality and consciousness began to fade. 

“What the actual fuck was that?’

With hearing those words my fight was lost and I dropped into the recesses of my mind and my body drove itself on instincts and hunger. God have mercy on the souls who will find themselves in my clutches.


End file.
